


Touch

by bellafarallones



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 06:49:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3841159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafarallones/pseuds/bellafarallones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this AU, Will Strife is an alien businessman for whom money is life and Parvis is a ghost who craves interaction- something he hasn’t had in a long time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touch

Parvis idly rolled over in the air and looked down at the silent figure of Strife below him, poring over a stack of paper. Strife would never see him. Ghosts weren’t seen. But he liked to pretend the blond businessman was his friend.

Strife turned over a page, and something snapped inside Parvis. He started to sob. “You know what, Strife? I don’t even know why I’m here. You’ll never talk to me. You’ll never know I’m here. I don’t even like you!”

Strife didn’t respond.

Then Parvis started to wail in earnest, reaching out to touch something, anything. Sitting half-inside the desk, his hand went right through everything- Will, the floor, the piles of paper…

Strife didn’t react.

Finally, Parvis tired himself out. His sobs faded to long rattling breaths and he held the only thing he could- hugging his knees to his chest, burying his face in them, and rocking back and forth on the office floor. “I wish you could see me, Strife. I wish you knew I was here.”

Hours later, Strife paused in his work and rubbed his eyes.

“Hey, Strifey. You should get some sleep.” Parvis floatedback up to his place near the ceiling.

Strife lay his head down on the desk, causing an avalanche of paper. “Someday I’ll win. Someday…” he muttered sleepily.

“It never works, you know,” said Parvis.

Strife jerked his head up. “Who said that!?”

Parvis fell silent and listened for whatever Strife had just heard. This late, surely nobody would be left in the office.

“Maybe I’m going crazy,” said Strife. “Maybe I should get some sleep.”

“Yes, you should.” Parvis looked down to see Strife’s shocked face turned up towards him. “That’s odd, Strifey. How can you be looking at me if you can’t see me?”

“B…but I can see you!”

“No, you can’t. You must really need to rest, because it’s impossible that you’re seeing me.”

“Hallucinations don’t normally say you’re crazy…”

“Look, Strifey, I don’t know how you’re doing this but you can’t see or hear me.”

“Yes, I can! You’re floating above my desk! I can see you opening your mouth to talk!”

“You can’t be seeing me. I’m kidding myself. I can say anything and you won’t hear.” Parvis thought for a moment. “Strife, you’re hot and you don’t realize how everyone looks at you.”

Strife blushed, his face lighting up green. “What do you mean-”

“Okay forget I said that. Maybe you can hear me.”

“I certainly can.”

“Interesting.” Parvis didn’t quite believe it. “I guess I have to watch what I say now.” He rolled over in the air, overcome with giddy laughter.

“Right…” said Strife. “Er… who are you?”

Parvis sank to the floor and bowed with a flourish. “My name is Alex Parvis. Guitarist, DOTA player, and resident of Solution Towers.”

“All right, Parvis. How are you floating? And I can see through you.”

“Ah, yes. I’m also a ghost.”

“So you’re… dead?”

“Yes.”

“Wow… that’s… uhhh… I should probably introduce myself. I’m-”

“I know who you are, Strifey. William Strife, founder and CEO of Strife Solutions. Lumin. Educated at the same university as the greats, Sips Underscore and Xephos.”

“How do you know all that? Have you been following me?”

“I’m dead. I don’t have anything better to do.”

“Right… are there… are there many other ghosts for you to talk to?”

“A few. Mostly they’ve stayed for a reason. They haunt a specific person.”

“What about you? Are you haunting me?”

“No. I’m following you, watching you, but I wouldn’t call it haunting.”

“Okay…” Strife’s instinctive politeness screamed at him not to ask any more questions.

“You should go home and go to bed. You need sleep.”

“Alright.” Strife restacked the papers on his desk and got up. “If I can’t see you tomorrow, I’ll at least know you’re here.”

“Thanks…” said Parvis. He still wasn’t convinced that Strife had seen him. But he was sure enough that he wouldn’t follow Strife home like he normally did. “Parvoir!” Strife shut the door to the office self-consciously behind him, and Parvis floated up to the window to watch him coming out of the building.

Halfway down the street, Strife looked back, searching for a shimmering face in his office window.

The next morning, Strife looked at the ceilings and into corners for the ghost with the handsome face and messy black hair. He didn’t really expect to see him again, but an irrational hope lingered in his chest.

Parvis, lounging up near the ornately painted ceiling of Strife’s office, listened to the office waking up. He knew that Strife was always one of the first people to come to work in the morning, and sure enough he didn’t have to wait long before the door slowly opened.

Strife looked up and caught sight of Parvis, as clearly visible as the night before. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

“Your secretary’s right outside,” said Parvis. “Say anything and he’ll think you’re crazy. Nod if you can hear me.”

Strife nodded.

“O-kay.”

At that moment, the intercom buzzed. Strife sat down and swept all the papers off his desk and into a drawer. The secretary’s voice came through the tiny speaker- “Sipsco is here to see you, sir.”

Parvis, sinking to his usual place behind Strife’s shoulder, swore loudly and watched the hair on the back of Strife’s neck prickle. Then the vice president of Sipsco walked in.

“Hello, Will!” said Sjin. He was tall, with impressive facial hair and a wide smile.

“Sjin,” replied Strife, shaking the other man’s outstretched hand.

Sjin leaned casually against Strife’s desk. “So. Long time no see.”

Strife said nothing. His arms were crossed, and his expression hostile.

Sjin’s manner suddenly changed. “All right, Strife. I see you won’t take any shit from me, so I’ll get right to the point. Sips wishes to buy all your stores on the southern half of the city.”

“Hell no! That sector is my biggest moneymaker!”

“Well, Strife.” Sjin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Sipsco has been watching you for a long time, and we know how you’ve been spending your money. You’ve been expanding fast, making a lot of money, but I noticed you haven’t been investing in a lot of muscle. So if you were the target of an, ah, let’s say completely random act of senseless violence, there would be very little standing between you and harm.”

“He’s not bluffing,” said Parvis. “He and his goon squad have been watching the building for weeks.”

Strife stiffened, and his face hardened into unreadability. “No, Sjin. I regret to inform you that I will not be taking your generous offer.”

“I think you’ll regret your decision, Strife.”

“I doubt it. Sjin, I don’t want to take up any more of your valuable time.”

“Thank you for your consideration, Strife. I’ll leave you to your work.” Sjin turned on his heel and stalked out.

“You’re going to die, Strife!” shouted Parvis. “He’ll kill you!”

Strife spoke under his breath. “I won’t lose my business… if he thinks I’ll give up…”

“Your life is more important than your profits!”

“Get out.” Strife slammed his fist on the desk and disappeared behind a pile of papers. “Get out of my office.”

Parvis hovered for only a moment more before diving through the wall. He landed right behind Sjin, who was climbing into a black car and talking into his phone. “He didn’t agree, Boss.”

Parvis leaned closer to hear the response, then swore under his breath.

“What a shame. He could have been useful to us.”

Strife didn’t react when Parvis flew back into his office. “Strife! You’ve got to be careful, Sips is actually planning to kill you!”

Strife didn’t look up. He only paused, his pen hovering over a column of numbers.

“You’ll end up dead!” Parvis didn’t want to consider the possibility that Strife, in banishing him, had lost the ability to see him. He dove through the floorboards, then came up so his head popped through the surface of the desk.

Seeing Parvis’s face only a few inches from his own, Strife slammed down his pen and stood up. “I know they’re going to kill me, Parvis!”

“Why aren’t you doing anything to stop it!?”

“There’s nothing I can do! I’ve got nothing besides my business and I won’t give it up! This is my life!”

“No, it’s not! Your life is worth more than money!”

“How would you know? You don’t have either!”

“Do you know how this feels?” spat Parvis. “Look!” He tried to pick up the pen, but his fingers went right through it. “Once you’re dead, it’s all over. I can’t touch anything, and nobody can see or hear me. I can’t do anything.”

Strife picked up his pen again and angrily scratched out a whole column of numbers. “You can certainly annoy me well enough.”

Parvis fell through ten floors of offices and loitered by the door, watching as people in gray and black suits came and went. As a ghost, he was used to waiting around. His patience, which had often run low in life, had been stretched to breaking in death. Not being able to interact with anyone or anything was maddening- not that he had been particularly sane before. He paced the lobby until the sky went dark and Strife finally stepped out of the elevator.

Since the lobby was deserted, Strife spoke aloud. “I can’t back down, Parvis.”

“All right. I won’t try to stop you.”

“Thanks.” Strife opened the door. After checking that the sidewalk was deserted, he held it for Parvis as he slipped silently through.

Once they got out of the high-class commercial district, the streets became more crowded. Strife strode through mobs of people laughing and shouting as their Friday night began.

Suddenly, he ducked into a narrow alley- a shortcut to his street.

“Strife, don’t!”

“I can’t stand the crowds,” muttered Strife, squeezing past a large van with darkened windows parked in the mouth of the alley. He didn’t look back to see Parvis frantically trying to pull on his hand, although their fingers slipped right through each other. “I’m not afraid of Sipsco.”

“Will!” screamed Parvis as the doors of the van opened and two hulking figures stepped out. He was powerless to help.

Strife turned just in time to see something coming down on his head. The pain was unbearable, too much to do anything but moan “Alex!” as his vision faded to black.  
Parvis froze. Maybe Strife would disappear, gone to whatever came next, and he would be alone again. But he hoped beyond hope that he wouldn’t.  
Even after Strife stopped moving, the two thugs delivered several more blows to his head, each landing with a sickening crunch. Then they grabbed the body by the feet and dragged it towards a dumpster across the alley, leaving behind a trail of blood on the concrete and the silvery outline of a ghost.

“Will! You stayed!”

The ghost of Strife leaped up. “I’ve got to follow them! Those filthy bastards!”

Parvis reached out, and this time their hands locked together as he held Strife back. “There’s no point. You can’t change anything.”

Strife stopped tugging on Parvis’s hand. “I guess you’re right.”

Parvis looked down at their hands. “This is the first time in forever I’ve been able to touch someone.”

Strife laughed. “It’s a good feeling.”


End file.
